Wei Ping said, "This time I admit my skills are inferior, I willingly concede defeat. Let's stop fighting and have a proper talk."
As the saying goes, "Every trade has its master." If we set aside professional prejudice, Lin Feiyuan could be considered the top leader in the assassin industry.
Many in the Cultivation World appear righteous and honorable on the surface, with numerous sects claiming to be orthodox schools dedicated to eliminating evil and upholding justice.
Therefore, many things cannot be done openly, and those they wish to kill cannot be dealt with personally, giving rise to the black market.
If one were to rank black market assassins, Lin Feiyuan undoubtedly deserved the top spot—not only because his services were the most expensive and his skills exquisite, having never failed a mission.
But more importantly, because he had people under him. Most newcomers to the assassination trade would bring gifts to visit him, submit a pledge of loyalty, and ask him to recommend a job.
Only then were they considered officially open for business in the black market.
Given Lin Feiyuan's reputation in the industry, it would be rare for him to come alone.
With a million at his disposal, he could easily hire more people and divide the tasks.
"Wei Zhenyu, what bargaining chips do you have to negotiate with me?"
Lin Feiyuan lifted his eyelids to look at Wei Ping, as if rolling his eyes at him: "The terrain map of Thousand Canal Bazaar and the city defense layout of Tiancheng were both provided by you. Without your cooperation, I couldn't have harmed him."
"Song Qianji is injured and has forcibly endured the Thunder Tribulation. If he's lucky enough to survive, when he wakes up, I'll tell him that the most loyal dog by his side is the mastermind behind the assassination. I still have evidence of our meetings—do you think you can survive?"
The worse Wei Ping's expression grew, the more Lin Feiyuan smiled with delight:
"What's with that look? Don't even think about searching me. The evidence is hidden somewhere only I know."
Wei Ping tightened his grip on the medicine bowl.
To gain Lin Feiyuan's trust and obtain detailed information about the assassination plan, he had indeed given the other some "sweeteners."
At that time, they were both acting, each speaking half-truths and half-lies. But while Lin Feiyuan cared about nothing, Wei Ping was different:
"I won't kill you. But if I don't treat you, you won't survive the night."
"Would you dare?" Lin Feiyuan said confidently. "Song Qianji wants me alive. You wouldn't dare defy him."
Wei Ping thought to himself, if not for fear of angering Song Qianji, he would have ground ten thousand of you to dust and scattered you into the canals of Thousand Canals.
He suddenly laughed: "You're right. Right now, my life is in your hands, and your life is in mine. That's fair. Pretend you don't know me, and I'll find a chance to let you go. How about that?"
"You still want to stay here? Cooking and washing clothes for that Song Qianji?" Lin Feiyuan exclaimed in amazement. "Ha! You've really grown addicted to being a dog!"
Wei Ping wasn't angered: "I know you're waiting. You're hoping someone will start a few fires and rescue you in the chaos. Unfortunately, I'm the steward here. During the recent inspection, I caught thirteen suspicious individuals. I tied them up with immortal-binding ropes and threw them into the God Temple... I forgot to tell you, the original God Temple is now the prison of Thousand Canals."By my calculations, the third round of inspection should be happening now." My principle has always been to wrongly arrest ten thousand rather than let one slip away. The city defense of Thousand Canals is under my control, and this courtyard is heavily protected with arrays. Don't believe me? Try it."
The mocking expression on Lin Feiyuan's face slightly faded. He believed this statement from Wei Ping was true."Song Qianji didn't kill me simply because he wants to extract information about my employer and accomplices from my mouth. I'm familiar with the interrogation methods used on assassins—torture, treatment, then more torture. If you want me to endure it without revealing your name..."
Wei Ping understood: "I'll find a way to get you out as soon as possible, so you won't suffer too much. After all, keeping you here does me no good either."
Lin Feiyuan slowly shook his head: "Not enough. If you want me to endure beatings and suffering, you'll have to increase the payment."
Wei Ping gritted his teeth: "Name your price."
"Where are the four who came with me?" Lin Feiyuan asked.
Wei Ping replied: "They value their lives more than you do. They've already taken the medicine and are sleeping in the woodshed."
"All five of us leave," Lin Feiyuan said coldly. "I don't care what method you use, but get us safely out of Thousand Canals within three days. Otherwise, we'll die together!"
"I won't release you until Song Qianji regains consciousness." Wei Ping took a deep breath, his tone softening. "When I left home as a youth and wandered the world, dirt poor, you were the one who referred me for my first job. In a way, you're like half a master to me."
"There's no deep-seated hatred between us—instead, we have friendship and shared history. This assassination was an accident. None of us wanted things to come to this, there's no need for a fight to the death."
After speaking, he smiled gently, just as he did when serving dishes to Song Qianji, and said softly: "This medicine has gone cold. Let me brew you another bowl."
Lin Feiyuan beckoned him: "Come, come closer."
Wei Ping smiled and leaned forward, half his body passing through the glow of the Entrapment Formation.
Lin Feiyuan suddenly snatched the medicine bowl from his hand: "How could this master dare drink medicine brewed by his own disciple?"
He threw his head back like drinking wine, gulping it down noisily, then returned the bowl: "Cold it may be, but at least it's not poisoned."
"Crash!"
Wei Ping swept his sleeve, knocking the bowl away: "Ungrateful wretch!"
Shattered porcelain scattered across the floor, candlelight flickering wildly.
Lin Feiyuan turned his head, a line of blood trickling from where a porcelain shard had cut his cheek: "The third day after Song Qianji wakes up."
Wei Ping stared at the broken pieces, his face alternating between pale and flushed. After a long moment, he crouched to clean up the mess: "Fine."
Lin Feiyuan laughed heartily: "Look at you now, really like a dog."
"Bang!" Wei Ping slammed the door shut.
Turning around, cold moonlight illuminated his calm, unreadable eyes.
The young man's expression of nervous anxiety and frustrated helplessness vanished instantly.
Hands clasped behind his back, he slowly descended the steps.
"Get them out of Thousand Canals within three days, then eliminate them all," he thought silently.
Whoever wants Song Qianji dead—whether the mastermind behind the scenes or these blades that pierced through the curtain—I'll eventually eliminate every last one.
...
Ji Chen sat before the desk fiddling with his Array Disk. He tried to concentrate but couldn't help glancing repeatedly at the unconscious Song Qianji:
Finally, he slammed the disk down: "Ji Chen! Hearing a few compliments usually makes you float, thinking you're some genius, something special? Look at this time—you're still far from adequate! If your formations were stronger, would Brother Song have been injured?"
"Relying on Brother Meng—Brother Meng might not be around. Relying on Brother Wei—Brother Wei might be busy. Better to rely on yourself than others. You're a Formation Master! The responsibility to protect Brother Song and Thousand Canals falls on your shoulders. Have you remembered that?"
"Senior Brother Ji!" A knock at the door interrupted his soliloquy.Ji Chen opened the door and saw a disciple from the Guard Squad. His heart fluttered with anxiety. "Has something happened at the Immortal Official Manor's entrance?"
He steeled himself, knowing that if trouble arose at this critical moment, he must step up.
The disciple whispered, "A monk has arrived at the gate, saying he passed through Thousand Canals during his travels and wishes to visit Song Xian Guan."
"Ask him to return another day." Ji Chen recalled Wei Ping's instructions and initially intended to dismiss the matter, but the mention of "traveling" stirred something in him. "Do you know his monastic name?"
"He calls himself Wuxiang."
"Ah!" Ji Chen exclaimed in delight. "Is our guest the 'Divine Healer Monk' Wu Xiang? Quickly invite him in!"
The disciple turned to leave.
"Wait—could this be an imposter?" Ji Chen called him back. "I'll meet him in the courtyard first."
Wu Xiang was renowned for his peerless medical skills and widespread reputation for compassion. In recent years, he had wandered the land, treating both cultivators and mortals alike based solely on fate. Even sect leaders seeking his diagnosis or healing could only encounter him by chance.
Ji Chen thought to himself, Could such fortune truly be real? Without me having to search tirelessly, the world's finest medical expert has come to us, offering to treat Senior Brother Song.
Before long, an elderly monk approached Song Courtyard accompanied by the Guard Squad disciple.
He wore a slightly worn golden-red kasaya, a string of prayer beads hanging from his chest. His entire being radiated warmth, standing out vividly against the unmelted snow.
The old monk was tall and broad-shouldered, with a kindly face, slightly graying hair and beard, a faint smile gracing his lips, and deep, tranquil eyes.
Ji Chen scrutinized the visitor carefully by moonlight, confirming it wasn't some shape-shifting illusion. Overjoyed, he bowed respectfully.
"This junior pays his respects to the master. My earlier neglect was truly improper."
The old monk smiled and nodded. "You are too courteous, benefactor. When you were young, you loved climbing trees in Fengming Courtyard—I even held you once."
"That was so many years ago, yet you still remember!" Ji Chen felt deeply moved. "Back then, my father had many friends and often hosted banquets at Fengming Courtyard... But never mind that. Master, what brings you to Thousand Canals?"
"Wandering through the mortal realm, nowhere is beyond reach," the monk replied. "This humble monk has heard that since Fellow Daoist Song became the Immortal Official of Thousand Canals, he has revived this lifeless land—an immeasurable virtuous deed. Thus, he was protected by golden light of merit during his Thunder Tribulation. I came specifically to visit this Fellow Daoist Song. Would it be convenient to see him?"
"To be frank, your timing is perfect!"
They desperately needed a miraculous physician. Without hesitation, Ji Chen said, "Of course—"
"Inconvenient!" A voice suddenly cut in, rudely interrupting him.
"Brother Wei?" Ji Chen turned, momentarily stunned.
Wei Ping strode over, inserting himself between Ji Chen and the visitor, his expression cold.
"You've come at an unfortunate time. Of course it's inconvenient."
His manner was utterly discourteous for receiving a guest.
"Amitabha." The old monk showed no offense, chanting the Buddha's name.
He gazed calmly at Wei Ping. Though his eyes held no malice, they carried a scrutinizing intensity.
This made Wei Ping deeply uncomfortable, as if the moonlight had stripped away all his disguises, revealing Wei Zhenyu's true face beneath.
Ji Chen hurriedly introduced them. "Brother Wei, you may not recognize the master. This is the Divine Healer Monk Wu Xiang. Master, please don't mind him—this is the chief steward of the Immortal Official Manor, Fellow Daoist Wei Ping."
Before he finished speaking, Ji Chen's joyful smile suddenly froze.
He heard Wei Ping's voice transmission:
"Thousand Canals has been sealed since the Thunder Tribulation—no one enters or leaves. You checked the entry and exit records from the four city gates. Did you see any monks? Where did this person come from?"The winter night's north wind howled, sweeping through the staggered flower stands. Under the snow, the flowers and trees had withered, leaving only the bamboo branches creaking.
Plum blossom petals drifted in the wind, swirling around the three figures.
Ji Chen took a subtle step, quietly moving out from behind Wei Ping. His hand hidden in his sleeve gripped the Array Disk, confirming that the Song Courtyard’s formations were operating smoothly, the formation materials were solid, and the Spirit Qi was abundant.
Even before Wei Ping finished speaking, he understood the other’s meaning.
He was reluctant to believe that the esteemed Master Wuxiang harbored ill intentions, but given the current circumstances, he couldn’t afford to take any risks.
Ji Chen couldn’t help but wonder: If Wuxiang had infiltrated the city after Thousand-Ditch Prefecture was sealed, what were his true motives?
If he had arrived before the Thunder Tribulation, claiming to admire Song Qianji’s boundless virtues as he said, why had he stood by idly during the assassination attempt, allowing chaos to unfold?
The biting cold wind chilled to the bone, yet Wei Ping’s cold sweat trickled down.
He had a premonition—this Wuxiang was far beyond the surface-level Minor Vehicle realm.
Ji Chen and Wei Ping exchanged a silent, swift glance, their hearts pounding like war drums.
Before them stood a powerful figure of uncertain allegiance.
Behind them lay Song Qianji, unconscious and vulnerable.
…
In just half a night, news of Song Qianji surviving the Thunder Tribulation and breaking through to the Nascent Soul realm had spread throughout the Cultivation World.
Most cultivators initially refused to believe it, some even feeling devastated:
"Song Qianji—isn’t he just someone who writes and plays chess? Hasn’t it only been a short while since the Star-Plucking Tournament and the Hero Summons?"
"Wasn’t it said that he’s frivolous by nature, fond of literary pursuits, chess, and gardening—a refined scholar but with low cultivation and no interest in advancing?"
"Most crucially, isn’t he only fifteen or sixteen this year? Does this mean Ziye Wenshu’s undisputed position as the top genius of his generation is about to be taken over?"
Tonight, not only was Thousand-Ditch Prefecture sleepless, but beyond its borders, many stayed up through the night awaiting news. Some even boarded Flying Magical Artifacts immediately, eager to verify the truth and catch a glimpse of the youngest Nascent Soul cultivator.
However, Thousand-Ditch Prefecture was temporarily sealed, unwelcoming to visitors. Forcing entry would undoubtedly mean severing ties.
Most cultivators chose to gather in the neighboring Hongfu Prefecture to observe.
Among them were individuals of notable status, forcing Hongfu’s Immortal Official, Liu Hongshan, to reluctantly part with his treasured Amber Jade Nectar to entertain his guests.
But he refrained from playing the "Wind and Snow Array Entry Tune." It was a fine melody, yet ever since he had performed it for Song Qianji, hearing it again stirred complicated emotions.
He had set aside his status to build a rapport with Song Qianji, originally hoping to break through to the Nascent Soul realm. Who could have predicted that before he succeeded, that young Song would achieve it first?
What kind of logic was that? It made no sense.
Fortunately, not everyone was like Song Qianji.
At the banquet, hosts and guests alike enjoyed themselves.
The attendees vied to flatter their host: "We’ve heard that Hongfu and Thousand-Ditch have been allies for generations, and that you, Fellow Daoist Liu, share a deep bond with Fellow Daoist Song. Could you possibly arrange an introduction? We’d love to meet the youngest Nascent Soul cultivator."
"Fellow Daoist Liu, you must be close to breaking through to the Nascent Soul realm yourself, right? For Song Qianji to achieve this at such a young age—half of it must be due to his innate talent, and the other half surely from your guidance."
Since leaving the Huawel Sect to serve as an Immortal Official among mortals, Liu Hongshan had spent his days resentfully dealing with ordinary people. Never before had he been so lavishly praised by so many high-status, senior cultivators.
For a moment, he felt elated enough to soar, further buoyed by the wine’s warmth. Slapping his chest, he guaranteed: "Though Thousand-Ditch has locked its doors, if I pay a personal visit, Song will surely grant me this face. Whoever wishes to see him, follow me tomorrow—I’ll make sure you meet him!"
He promptly arranged accommodations, keeping his guests in Hongfu.
Once the guests closed their doors and set up soundproofing arrays, the hazy drunkenness in their eyes vanished instantly."It's too hard to kill this Song Qianji, and too difficult to marry Chen Hongzhu!"
Wei Zhanyang propped his chin on his hand, sighing leisurely. "Father, although the Huawel Sect appears prosperous now, with Xu Yun about to break through to the Transformation Stage and the Zhao clan firmly tied to them, I recently heard that Xu Yun sent people to search for lotus flowers deep in the Dead Sea. He likely has hidden injuries..."
The middle-aged cultivator beside him snorted coldly: "Don't think I don't know - you dislike Chen Hongzhu for not being beautiful enough, not gentle enough. You're afraid she'll whip you. You're still thinking about the number one beauty, Fairy Miaoyan."
"Does it matter which female cultivator I marry? You underestimate me, Father. I'm thinking that perhaps we shouldn't board Huawel Sect's ship. If we want support from a major sect, wouldn't the Celestial Sound Sect be better?"
The middle-aged cultivator slowly poured a cup of tea and countered:
"How come I didn't know we've boarded their ship? If we succeed, our family gains the Spirit Stone mine and Huawel Sect's support. You'll be the greatest contributor, inevitably the next family head."
"If we fail, it was the Rogue Cultivator Wei Ping who went to Thousand-Ditch Prefecture, and it was him who tried to assassinate Song Qianji. There's no Wei Ping in our family registry."
Wei Zhanyang exclaimed with exaggerated expression: "But Wei Zhenyu is my brother after all!"
"Have you forgotten? Only with Wei Zhenyu gone do you get to marry Chen Hongzhu. The same goes for the family head position."
Wei Zhanyang suddenly laughed: "Just joking. I have no brother who cares about Thousand Canals."
He picked up the teacup, took a sip, then spat into a flowerpot: "Pah, that pauper Liu Hongshan calls this tea?"
Suddenly, knocking sounded at the door. Wei Zhanyang immediately became alert, while the middle-aged cultivator remained unchanged, as if expecting it: "Enter."
The visitor was dressed as a commoner, face covered in dust, looking travel-worn.
The middle-aged cultivator asked: "Well?"
"Thousand Canals urgently sealed off because Song Qianji fell unconscious on the street after facing the Thunder Tribulation..."
"I knew it wasn't that simple! Heaven has eyes!" Wei Zhanyang slammed the table and stood up, laughing heartily: "Struck dead?!"
The messenger wiped sweat: "N-no, he didn't die. He had virtue golden light protecting him."
"Virtue golden light?!" Wei Zhanyang was shocked. "Just from one Thousand-Ditch Prefecture, he could nurture virtue golden light? This must be heaven's will. I told you Chen Hongzhu is hard to marry."
The middle-aged cultivator said: "Just bluster. He must have Transcension Mystic Treasures left by his backer. Go back and investigate further, see whether Lin Feiyuan is dead or alive."
"The arrays are too strict, can't get back in," the man said nervously. "Even if I could bypass the arrays, Steward Wei is screening suspicious people. When Song Qianji first had the accident, I took advantage of the chaos to rush out, racing against time, barely escaping the city defense team to flee Thousand-Ditch Prefecture..."
Wei Zhanyang kindly helped him up: "You've worked hard."
"Don't mention it. It's my honor to serve the master and young master," the man said anxiously, ingratiatingly. "About those three Foundation Establishment pills..."
"Of course, of course." Wei Zhanyang took out a porcelain vial with his left hand, drawing the other's gaze, then suddenly struck out with his right palm.
Crack! A crisp sound, like a wine cup shattering.
The man's miserable cry didn't even form before his body went limp, ceasing all sound.
His skull was crushed by the palm strike, a hopeful smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth.
"No improvement," the middle-aged cultivator said coldly. "How many times have I told you? Can't you do it cleaner?"He produced a crystal lamp and lightly flicked the wick.
A wretched scream echoed mid-air as a flash of fire erupted. The feeble soul attempting to escape ignited, instantly turning to ashes.
Wei Zhanyang brushed the dust from his sleeves: "Even if Lin Feiyuan failed and died, what is Wei Zhenyu waiting for? Song Qianji is currently unconscious, and Meng Heze isn’t by his side. I’ve met Ji Chen before—he’s a brainless young master."
The more he thought, the more excited he grew: "The Immortal Official Manor and Thousand-Ditch Prefecture might just fall into Wei Zhenyu’s hands. Wei Ping could try again to kill Song Qianji."
The middle-aged cultivator said, "Wei Zhenyu’s mind is acting up again. Take some men and help him regain clarity."
"Yes, Father." Wei Zhanyang stood up, smiling as he bowed.
...
Dark clouds drifted over, obscoring the cold moon.
The faint candlelight in Song Courtyard flickered in the wind.
The old monk’s kasaya fluttered like a crimson flower.
He took a step forward and asked with a smile, "But what inconvenience might there be?"
Wei Ping suddenly felt pressure surging toward him, like an endless ocean tide.
He had only experienced similar oppressive force when facing the ancestral elders of his family. As for the Calligrapher Sage and Chess Devil, they disliked displaying such pressure.
I’m still too weak—I can’t even protect those I wish to guard. Wei Ping gritted his teeth, enduring the strain while inwardly laughing bitterly. Had he known it would come to this, he wouldn’t have squandered so much time.
Though Ji Chen didn’t feel the pressure, seeing Wei Ping’s pale face, he shouted:
"Venerable Master, it’s late tonight! Brother Song has already retired!"
"Is that so?" The old monk turned to Ji Chen.
Ji Chen’s heart trembled as if pinned in place by two profound gazes, unable to move.
This visitor meant no good.
The north wind pierced to the bone, making Song Courtyard seem on the verge of collapse.
Wei Ping’s fingers twitched inside his sleeves. Outside the courtyard, the Guard Squad disciples stood ready.
At this critical moment, a voice came from inside the room:
"I’m awake now. If the Master wishes to see me, please come in."
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